To those who offered their condolences and sympathy to my family, I would always say, "Thank you. But it was best for him to go. Put an end to all his sufferings."
His last few days, no, make that his last month was a painful one. He was warded at HKL for about a month and he was constantly in pain. The doctors could only feed him milk through his nose and he wasn't allowed to take more than just a few sips of water. Every so often when he's in so much pain he would cry out, "Aduuhh sakiitt!" and that wasn't easy to hear.
At times like this, I wished I was a doctor because then perhaps I could do something to ease his pain rather than just stand by the bedside with slight tears in the eyes, watching him in agony. The HKL doctors were too busy attending to other patients.
The family had Tahlil for 3 nights in a row and it was nice to see family and friends from all over coming together to attend the Tahlil. But Tok Ayah's lack of presence was clearly felt. If he was around, he would join in the lively chats and banters and talk animatedly about Malaysian politics. Oh, he was really good at commentating on our politics and added his own dry humour to it. I'll miss that part of him.
Tok Ayah was the only grandfather I ever knew (my maternal grandfather passed away long before I was born) and he was the best at it, to me. When I was a kid, every time I visited their house I would first search and run over for my Tok Ayah as he took me on his lap.
There was this one time where I accidentally scratched his favourite car with a metal piece I found on the floor. I drew stick men on the car hood and ohh man, he was sooo furious about it. I was 6 years old then. He gave me the cold shoulder for awhile but being the Tok Ayah he was, he couldn't stay angry at me for long.
I remembered when I was in Form 4 and the WIRA debate team managed to get to the national levels which was held in Kelantan. I briefly mentioned it to him in passing and when I visited him the next time, he told me he was in Kelantan and went to visit the resort the team was staying in hoping to come and show his support. But we had gone back already. That somehow managed to tug at my heartstrings.
He had this favourite expression he used every time one of us asked him how was he.
"Apa khabar, Ayah"(How are you, father?)
"Ahh tak dok gapo. Nak habehkan lagu jaa."(Ahh nothing. Just finishing the song)
"Nak habiskan lagu." It referred to how he's about to reach the end of his life journey.
And when he passed away last Tuesday morning, like what my mum wrote on her blog, the song had ended, indeed.
You'll be dearly missed, Tok Ayah.
P/S You might want to read the story of our 'psychic' with my grandfather moments before his death here.